


Blueprints For a Fantasy

by devil



Category: Rayman (Video Games)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 18:14:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devil/pseuds/devil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Magician works late into the night, trying to perfect his work, knowing nothing less than perfect will get him what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blueprints For a Fantasy

Faint scribbling was the only sound that could be heard in the late night through the lab. As usual, Ales was the only one left working. The others all had left, gone home for the night, no where near as dedicated as he was. Hours upon hours were spent hunched over his desk working. It was to be expected, as it was his cause. What he wanted more than anything else. It wasn’t plausible for it to be anywhere near as important to anyone else as it was for him. 

Of course, they were all concerned with the end goal, what would happen once all their plans were completed and set into motion. There was more in it for the Magician, however. 

Drawing up another plan for a large robotic monster, he furrows his brows. Murmuring to himself, he scribbles something else, before getting fed up with whatever the idea was and scrapping the paper all together. Crumbling it up, he tosses it into a nearby trash can, filled with other discarded ideas. 

Grabbing another piece of paper, he immediately sets to work again without hesitation, though a little sigh escapes him, followed by a frustrated growl. The pencil strokes stop for a moment as he tries to think. Times like this he wished he could just take a break, let his head clear, though he considered that to be slacking. This was too important to waste time with.

His ideas were good, he knew that. But they weren’t perfect, and that’s what they needed to be. Anything less than perfect wouldn’t get him what he wanted, wouldn’t get him the attention of the man he admired. Ales’s blue eyes dart up to the posters in front of his desk, all photos of Mr. Dark, though mostly silhouettes, some with his name written on them. 

The man was a genius, powerful, mysterious, feared, and respected. Magic seemed to be second nature to the man. He was so amazing, so wonderful. Everything the Magician wanted to be, everything the Magician wanted. 

That thought has Ales feeling a little guilty, though it’s no secret, at least to himself, that over time this little admiration towards the great villain has grown to something more with him. His heart is already racing just from looking at the posters.

With a little gulp, he takes off his hat, setting it down onto his desk, before looking around. After making sure the room was still indeed empty, soothing his fears, he sighs, running a hand through his blue dreads before starting to write again. However, at the same time, his free hand snakes itself into his pants, his briefs, and around his cock, fishing it out.

A hitched breath escapes him and he shudders a little. Slowly, he starts to stroke himself through his pants, while at the same time trying to remain focused on his work. This wasn’t the first time he’s done something like this, and each time he has to justify it to himself. It was only to help him work better, though how he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was just a stress reliever.

It does seem to help, as he gently rocks his hips into his hand, pumping his cock to life, little moans escaping him. The quality of his designs, at least in his opinion, improve. At the same time, it quickly becomes harder and harder to focus on them.

The pencil movements, though quickly done, were precise, exact. The longer Ales goes on with this, the sloppier they become. His body trembles slightly, his hips jerking more constantly, now on their own will. And, like always, his mind drifts elsewhere, somewhere other than his work. Into a fantasy where he accomplished his goals, is now the ruler of the Glade of Dreams, and, of course, has Mr. Dark all to himself now.

Whimpers escaping him, Ales almost drops his pencil, bucking into his hand. Thoughts and ideas of him alone with Mr Dark, pleasing him, doing everything for him, invade his mind. 

Dedicated as always, he still tries to work, though his lines are coming out jagged, too messy, and eventually the pencil is dropped. Desire winning over in the end. With his hand free, he uses it to hold himself up better against the desk. There’s still a small fear in the back of his mind about being caught, though he doesn’t care, and groans loud, only focusing on his fantasies and pumping his hard cock now.

“Mr Dark,” he moans over and over again, squeezing his eyes shut. Incredibly pleasure is filling him, making him shake. A rosy shade of pink flushes across his cheeks, some sweat forming on his forehead. Continuing to stoke himself hard and fast, he pants out, looking up at his posters again, little smile coming to his lips at the images of the evil sorcerer. 

Seeing the images only make the feelings more and more intense until eventually he can’t handle any more. Shuddering, he groans out the villains name one last time, coming in his hand. 

A vibrating, tingly sensation washes over him, making his body feel weak, yet at the same time full of bliss. Breathing heavy, he shakily, slowly straightens up, collapsing down into a nearby chair. As he tries to come down from his pleasure high, he looks at his hand before wiping it on his pants, not caring at the moment that he’s dirtied them before buttoning back up.

A few moments pass and he just sits there, collecting himself. Running a hand through his hair he looks at his desk, at the work on it, then to the posters. For now, he was much too worn out to continue working, deciding there would be time in the morning. Picking up his hat and placing it on his head once again, Ales heads out of the lab, turning everything off for the night.

Even if these fantasies were a waste of time, they were still motivation, something to help him look forward to what could happen once he achieved his goals as long as he kept working hard.


End file.
